Tuesday, May 1, 2012

I took a shot of this banned stuff yesterday, I don't recommend it (:p). One guy was like dying from it lol he really didn't take it well, the other two were unphased, and my throat and mouth felt like it was on fire for a few minutes. Aleister Crowley is in the Absinthe wiki, of course he is lol. Having the experience behind me, I'm not doing any more of this crap. It can't be very healthy, sure doesn't feel like it lol.

Monday, April 30, 2012

Beltane marks the emergence of the young God into manhood. Stirred by the energies at work in nature, he desires the Goddess. They fall in love, lie among the grasses and blossoms, and unite. The Goddess becomes pregnant of the God.

You gotta hand it to the Neo-Pagans at the Edinburgh Fire Festival, they really know how to celebrate! With boobs and FIRE! If I get the chance I would love to be there next year.

I've spent a month nearly every day anointing my wand (Dear God that sounds so hilarious
I crack up everytime I think about it, can't help it) with Abramelin oil and soon I
will consecrate it and it will become a part of my rituals. I got very high each time during the action, it's a half hour in which I did the same breathing exercise as in the lucid dreaming post with the I am Mantra, but together with the physical action it really did funny tricks with my brain, once I felt like there was energy being pushed out of my ear. My ear, man!

Also, hilariously I was watching the second Harry Potter film Chamber of Secrets, where he and Ron use the cupcakes to shapeshift into Malfoy's buddies. I was just done with my half hour and I laughingly go "Wingardium Leviosa!" and I shit you not, exactly at the same time, the same words come out of Harry Potter's mouth as he levitates the two cupcakes. I really enjoyed that! One of the perks of watching the movies for the first time while training to be a Mage!

"The Big Eye is their most important symbol," said Malaclypse, "but it isn't the only one. The Rosy Cross is another. But most widely copied is the serpent symbol. The eye in the pyramid and the serpent are often seen in combination. Together they represent the sea monster Leviathan, whose tentacles are depicted as serpents and whose central body is shown as an eye in a pyramid. Since each of Leviathan's tentacles is said to have an independent brain, that's not half bad. The swastika, which was a pretty important symbol around these parts some decades ago, was originally a stylized drawing of Leviathan and his many tentacles. Early versions of it have more than four hooks, and they often include a triangle, sometimes even an eye-and-triangle, in the center. A common transitional form is a triangle with the sides extended and then hooked to form tentacle shapes. There are two tentacles for each of the three angles, which yields a twenty-three. Polish archeologists found a swastika painted in a cave. The drawing dated back to Cro-Magnon times, not long after the fall of Atlantis, and there were twenty-three swirling tentacles around a beautifully executed pyramid with an ocher eye in its center."

DEFINITIONS AND DISTINCTIONS

FREE MARKET: That condition of society in which all economic transactions result from voluntary choice without coercion.

THE STATE: That institution which interferes with the Free Market through the direct exercise of coercion or the granting of privileges (backed by coercion).

TAX: That form of coercion or interference with the Free Market in which the State collects tribute (the tax), allowing it to hire armed forces to practice coercion in defense of privilege, and also to engage in such wars, adventures, experiments, "reforms," etc., as it pleases, not at its own cost, but at the cost of "its" subjects.

PRIVILEGE: From the Latin privi, private, and lege, law. An advantage granted by the State and protected by its powers of coercion. A law for private benefit.

USURY: That form of privilege or interference with the Free Market in which one State-supported group monopolizes the coinage and thereby takes tribute (interest), direct or indirect, on all or most economic transactions.

LANDLORDISM: That form of privilege or interference with the Free Market in which one State-supported group "owns" the land and thereby takes tribute (rent) from those who live, work, or produce on the land.

TARIFF: That form of privilege or interference with the Free Market in which commodities produced outside the State are not allowed to compete equally with those produced inside the State.

CAPITALISM: That organization of society, incorporating elements of tax, usury, landlordism, and tariff, which thus denies the Free Market while pretending to exemplify it.

CONSERVATISM: That school of capitalist philosophy which claims allegiance to the Free Market while actually supporting usury, landlordism, tariff, and sometimes taxation.

LIBERALISM: That school of capitalist philosophy which attempts to correct the injustices of capitalism by adding new laws to the existing laws. Each time conservatives pass a law creating privilege, liberals pass another law modifying privilege, leading conservatives to pass a more subtle law recreating privilege, etc., until "everything not forbidden is compulsory" and "everything not compulsory is forbidden."

SOCIALISM: The attempted abolition of all privilege by restoring power entirely to the coercive agent behind privilege, the State, thereby converting capitalist oligarchy into Statist monopoly. Whitewashing a wall by painting it black.

ANARCHISM: That organization of society in which the Free Market operates freely, without taxes, usury, landlordism, tariffs, or other forms of coercion or privilege.

RIGHT ANARCHISTS predict that in the Free Market people would voluntarily choose to compete more often than to cooperate.

LEFT ANARCHISTS predict that in the Free Market people would voluntarily choose to cooperate more often than to compete.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

"Great, Hagbard, just great," said Joe.
"We're gonna save the earth, aren't we, Joe?" Hagbard yelled. "Gonna save the earth, that right?"
"Jesus saves," said George. He began to sing:
I've got the peace that passeth understanding
Down in my heart,
Down in my heart,
Down in my heart.
I've got the peace that passeth understanding
Down in my heart—
Down in my heart—to—stay!
Hagbard and Stella laughed and applauded. Harry Coin shook his head and muttered, "Takes me back. Sure does take me back."
Joe took a few steps away from George, moving so he could face Hagbard across the table. "What do you mean, save the earth?"
Hagbard looked at him stupidly, his mouth hanging open. "If you don't know that, why are you here?"
"I just want to know— we're going to save the earth, but are we going to save the people?"
"What people?"
"The people that live on the earth."
"Oh— those people," said Hagbard. "Sure, sure, we're gonna save everybody."
Stella frowned. "This is the silliest conversation I've ever heard."

"Here are the five alternate histories," Gruad said, his wise old eyes crinkling humorously. "Each of you will be responsible for planting the evidence to make one of these histories seem fairly credible. Wo Topod, you get the Carcosa story. Evoe, you get the lost continent of Mu." He handed out two bulky envelopes. "Gao Twone, you get this charming snake story—I want variations of it scattered throughout Africa and the Near East." He handed out another envelope. "Unica, you get the Urantia story, but that one isn't to be released until fairly late in the Game." He picked up the fifth envelope and smiled again. "Kajeci, my love, you get the Atlantis story, with certain changes that make us out to be the most double-dyed bastards in all history. Let me explain the purpose behind that ..."

"It is written," he said, "that the universe is a practical joke by the general at the expense of the particular. Do not be too quick to laugh or weep, if you believe this saying. All I can say is, there is a serious threat in being to all your plans. I warn you. You have been warned. You may all die. Are you afraid of death? You need not answer— I see that you are. That in itself may be a mistake. I have tried to explain to you about not fearing death, but you will not listen. All your other problems follow from that."

The other four Illuminati Primi listened in cold, disdainful silence and did not reply.

"If all are One," the fifth Illuminatus added significantly, "all violence is masochism."

"Okay, then, here's the payoff, and your answer better be good. Why are you helping the Illuminati to

immanentize the Eschaton, Hagbard?"

"It steam-engines when it comes steam-engine time, as a very wise man once said."

"Jesus," Joe said wearily. "I thought I had crossed that pom asinorum. When I figured out how you get the goose out of the bottle in the Zen riddle— you do nothing and wait for the goose to peck its way out, just like a chick pecks its way out of an egg— I realized 'Do what thou wilt' becomes 'the whole of the law' by a mathematical process. The equation balances when you realize who the 'thou' is, as distinguished from the ordinary 'you.' The whole fucking works, the universe—all of it alive in the same way we're alive, and mechanical in the same way we're mechanical. The Robot. The one more trustworthy than all the Buddhas and sages. Oh, Christ, yes, I thought I understood it all. But this, this . . . this stone fatalism— what the hell are we going to Ingolstadt for, if we can't do anything?"

"The coin has two sides. It's the only coin that comes up at this time, but it still has two sides." Hagbard leaned forward intensely. "It's mechanical and alive. Let me give you a sexual metaphor, since you usually hang out with New York intellectuals. You look at a woman across a room and you know you're going to bed with her before the night is over. That's mechanical: Something has happened when your eyes met But the orgasm is organic; what it will be like, neither of you can predict. And I know, just as the Illuminati know, that immanentization is going to happen on May first because of a mechanical process Adam Weishaupt started on another May first two centuries ago, and because of other processes other people started before then and since then. But neither I nor the Illuminati know what form immanentization will take. It doesn't have to be hell on earth. It can be heaven on earth. And that's why we're going to Ingolstadt."

Monday, April 23, 2012

"I can put the Great Tradition in one word," he said calmly. "Privilege."
Old Drake suddenly stopped looking agreeable-but-bored— he seemed both interested and amused.
"One seldom encounters such a refreshing freedom from euphemism," he said, leaning forward. "But perhaps I am reading too much into your remark, sir?"
Hawk-face sipped at his champagne and patted his mouth with a napkin before answering. "I think not," he said at last. "Privilege is defined in most dictionaries as a right or immunity giving special favors or benefits to those who hold it. Another meaning in Webster is 'not subject to the usual rules or penalties.' The invaluable thesaurus gives such synonyms as power, authority, birthright, franchise, patent, grant, favor and, I'm sad to say, pretension. Surely, we all know what privilege is in this club, don't we, gentlemen? Do I have to remind you of the Latin roots, privi, private, and lege, law, and point out in detail how we have created our Private Law over here, just as the Politburo have created their own private law in their own sphere of influence?"
"But that's not the Great Tradition," the banker type said (later, I learned that he was actually a college professor; Drake was the only banker at that table). "What Mr. Adler means by the Great Tradition—"
"What Mortimer means by the Great Tradition," hawk-face interrupted rudely, "is a set of myths and fables invented to legitimize or sugar-coat the institution of privilege. Correct me if I'm wrong," he added more politely but with a sardonic grin.
"He means," the true believer said, "the undeniable axioms, the time-tested truths, the shared wisdom of the ages, the . . ."
"The myths and fables," hawk-face contributed gently.
"The sacred, time-tested wisdom of the ages," the other went on, becoming redundant. "The basic bedrock of civil society, of civilization. And we do share that with the Communists. And it is just that common humanistic tradition that the young anarchists, on both sides of the Iron Curtain, are blaspheming, denying and trying to destroy. It has nothing to do with privilege at all."
"Pardon me," the dark man said. "Are you a college professor?"
"Certainly. I'm head of the Political Science Department at Harvard!"
"Oh," the dark man shrugged. "I'm sorry for talking so bluntly before you. I thought I was entirely surrounded by men of business and finance."
The professor was just starting to look as if he spotted the implied insult in that formal apology when Drake interrupted.
"Quite so. No need to shock our paid idealists and turn them into vulgar realists overnight. At the same time, is it absolutely necessary to state what we all know in such a manner as to imply a rather hostile and outside viewpoint? Who are you and what is your trade, sir?"
"Hagbard Celine. Import-export. Gold and Appel Transfers here in New York. A few other small establishments in other ports." As he spoke my image of piracy and Borgia stealth came back strongly. "And we're not children here," he added, "so why should we avoid frank language?"
The professor, taken aback a foot or so by this turn in the conversation, sat perplexed as Drake replied:
"So. Civilization is privilege— or Private Law, as you say so literally. And we all know where Private Law comes from, except the poor professor here— out of the barrel of a gun,' in the words of
a gentleman whose bluntness you would appreciate. Is it your conclusion, then, that Adler is, for all
his naivete, correct, and we have more in common with the Communist rulers than we have setting
us at odds?"
"Let me illuminate you further," Celine said— and the way he pronounced the verb made me jump. Drake's blue eyes flashed a bit, too, but that didn't surprise me: anybody as rich as IRS thought he was, would have to be On the Inside.
"Privilege implies exclusion from privilege, just as advantage implies disadvantage," Celine went on. "In the same mathematically reciprocal way, profit implies loss. If you and I exchange equal goods, that is trade: neither of us profits and neither of us loses. But if we exchange unequal goods, one of us profits and the other loses. Mathematically. Certainly. Now, such mathematically unequal exchanges will always occur because some traders will be shrewder than others. But in total freedom— in anarchy— such unequal exchanges will be sporadic and irregular. A phenomenon of unpredictable periodicity, mathematically speaking. Now look about you, professor— raise your nose from your great books and survey the actual world as it is— and you will not observe such unpredictable functions. You will observe, instead, a mathematically smooth function, a steady profit
accruing to one group and an equally steady loss accumulating for all others. Why is this, professor?
Because the system is not free or random, any mathematician would tell you a priori. Well, then, where is the determining function, the factor that controls the other variables? You have named it yourself, or Mr. Adler has: the Great Tradition. Privilege, I prefer to call it. When A meets B in the marketplace, they do not bargain as equals. A bargains from a position of privilege; hence, he always profits and B always loses. There is no more Free Market here than there is on the other side of the Iron Curtain. The privileges, or Private Laws— the rules of the game, as promulgated by the Politburo and the General Congress of the Communist Party on that side and by the U.S. government and the Federal Reserve Board on this side— are slightly different; that's all. And it is this that is threatened by anarchists, and by the repressed anarchist in each of us," he concluded, strongly emphasizing the last clause, staring at Drake, not at the professor.

It is now theoretically possible to link the human nervous system into a radio network so that, micro-miniaturized receivers being implanted in people's brains, the messages coming out of these radios would be indistinguishable to the subjects from the voice of their own thoughts. One central transmitter, located in the nation's capital, could broadcast all day long what the authorities wanted the people to believe. The average man on the receiving end of these broadcasts would not even know he was a robot; he would think it was his own voice he was listening to. The average woman could be
treated similarly.

It is ironic that people will find such a concept both shocking and frightening. Like Orwell's 1984, this is not a fantasy of the future but a parable of the present. Every citizen in every authoritarian society already has such a "radio" built into his or her brain. This radio is the little voice that asks, each time a desire is formed, "Is it safe? Will my wife (my husband/my boss/my church/my community) approve? Will people ridicule and mock me? Will the police come and arrest me?" This little voice the Freudians call "The Superego," with Freud himself vividly characterized as "the ego's
harsh master." With a more functional approach, Peris, Hefferline and Goodman, in Gestalt Therapy, describe this process as "a set of conditioned verbal habits."

This set, which is fairly uniform throughout any authoritarian society, determines the actions which will, and will not, occur there. Let us consider humanity a biogram {the basic DNA blueprint of the human organism and its potentials) united with a logogram (this set of "conditioned verbal habits"). The biogram has not changed in several hundred thousand years; the logogram is different in each society. When the logogram reinforces the biogram, we have a libertarian society, such as still can be found among some American Indian tribes. Like Confucianism before it became authoritarian and
rigidified, American Indian ethics is based on speaking from the heart and acting from the heart—'that is, from the biogram.

No authoritarian society can tolerate this. All authority is based on conditioning men and women to act from the logogram, since the logogram is a set created by those in authority.

Every authoritarian logogram divides society, as it divides the individual, into alienated halves. Those at the bottom suffer what I shall call the burden of nescience. The natural sensory activity of the biogram— what the person sees, hears, smells, tastes, feels, and, above all, what the organism as a whole, or as a potential whole, wants —is always irrelevant and immaterial. The authoritarian logogram, not the field of sensed experience, determines what is relevant and material. This is as true of a highly paid advertising copywriter as it is of an engine lathe operator. The person acts, not on
personal experience and the evaluations of the nervous system, but on the orders from above. Thus, personal experience and personal judgment being nonoperational, these functions become also less "real." They exist, if at all, only in that fantasy land which Freud called the Unconscious. Since nobody has found a way to prove that the Freudian Unconscious really exists, it can be doubted that personal experience and personal judgment exist; it is an act of faith to assume they do. The organism has become, as Marx said, "a tool, a machine, a robot."

Those at the top of the authoritarian pyramid, however, suffer an equal and opposite burden of omniscience. All that is forbidden to the servile class— the web of perception, evaluation and participation in the sensed universe— is demanded of the members of the master class. They must attempt to do the seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, feeling and decision-making for the whole society.

But a man with a gun is told only that which people assume will not provoke him to pull the trigger. Since all authority and government are based on force, the master class, with its burden of omniscience, faces the servile class, with its burden of nescience, precisely as a highwayman faces his victim. Communication is possible only between equals. The master class never abstracts enough information from the servile class to know what is actually going on in the world where the actual productivity of society occurs.

Furthermore, the logogram of any authoritarian society remains fairly inflexible as time passes, but everything else in the universe constantly changes. The result can only be progressive disorientation among the rulers. The end is debacle. The schizophrenia of authoritarianism exists both in the individual and in the whole society.

I call this the Snafu (Situation Normal All Fucked Up) Principle.
"What the hell are these?" Eichmann asked. He had been searching Hagbard's closet and found some red, white and blue bumper stickers. The top half of each letter was blue with white stars, and the bottom half was red-and-white stripes; they looked patriotic as all get-out. The slogan formed this way was

LEGALIZE ABORTION PREGNANCY IS A JEWISH PLOT!

Hagbard had been circulating these in neighborhoods like the Yorkville section of Manhattan, the western suburbs of Chicago, and other places where old-fashioned Father Coughlin-Joe McCarthy style Irish Catholic fascism was still strong. This was a trial run on the logogram-biogram double-bind tactic out of which the Dealy Lama later developed Operation Mindfuck.

"Patriotic stickers," Hagbard explained.
"Well, they look patriotic . . ." Eichmann conceded dubiously.
"What the hell are these?" Galley asked. He had found some business-size cards saying RED in green letters and GREEN in red letters.
("When you're out of it all the way, on the mountain," George asked, "that's neither the biogram nor the logogram, right? What the hell is it, then?")
"An antigram," Hagbard explained, still helpful.
"The cards are an antigram?" Eichmann repeated, bewildered.
"I may have to place you under arrest and take you downtown," Hagbard warned. "You've both been very naughty boys. Breaking and entering. Pointing a gun at me— that's technically assault with a deadly weapon. Seizing my narcotics— that's theft. All sorts of invasion of privacy. Very, very naughty."
"You can't arrest us," Eichmann whined. "We're supposed to arrest you."
"Which is red and which is green?" Hagbard asked.
"Look again," They looked and RED was now really red and GREEN was really green. (Actually, the tints changed according to the angle at which Hagbard held the card, but he wasn't giving away his secrets to them.) "I can also change up and down," he added. "Worse yet, I clog zippers. Neither one of you can open your fly right now, for instance. My real gimmick, though, is reversing revolvers. Try to shoot me and the bullets will come out the back and you'll never use your good right hand again. Try it and see if I'm bluffing."
"Can't you go a little easy on us, officer?" Eichmann took out his wallet. "A cop's salary ain't the
greatest in the world, eh?" He nudged Hagbard insinuatingly.
"Are you trying to bribe me?" Hagbard asked sternly.
Hagbard, actually— well, not actually; this is just what he told me— had started with two handicaps, intending to prove that they weren't handicaps. The first was that he would have a bank balance of exactly $00.00 at the beginning, and the second was that he would never kill another human being throughout the Demonstration. That which was to be proved (namely, that government is a hallucination, or a self-fulfilling prophecy) could be shown only if all his equipment, including money and people, came to him through honest trade or voluntary association. Under these rules, he could not shoot even in self-defense, for the biogram of government servants was to be preserved, and only their logograms could be disconnected, deactivated and defused. The Celine System was a consistent, although flexible, assault on the specific conditioned reflex— that which compelled people to look outside themselves, to a god or a government, for direction or strength. The servants of government all carried weapons; Hagbard's insane scheme depended on rendering the weapons harmless. He called this the Tar-Baby Principle ("You Are Attached To What You Attack").

Being a man of certain morbid self-insight, he realized that he himself exemplified the Tar-Baby Principle and that his attacks on government kept him perpetually attached to it. It was his malign and insidious notion that government was even more attached to him; that his existence qua anarchist qua smuggler qua outlaw aroused greater energetic streaming in government people than their existence aroused in him: that, in short, he was the Tar Baby on which they could not resist hurling themselves in anger and fear: an electrochemical reaction in which he could bond them to himself just as the Tar Baby captured anyone who swung a fist at it.

The mouth of the just shall meditate wisdomAnd his lanuage shall be clearBlessed is he who suffers temptationSince he, with striving, shall recieve the crown of lifeLord, fire divine, have mercyOh how sacredHow sereneHow bevolentHow lovely Oh, lily of purity!Lord, fire divine, have mercyOh how sacredHow sereneHow bevolentHow lovely Oh, lily of purity!

Sunday, April 22, 2012

So I'm meditating in all kinds of ways, doing hatha yoga, ritual magick, etc for months now. My crown chakra is becoming more active everyday to the point I feel it swirl near-constantly. I take one day off from mysticism and occultism and smoke some great Holland weed with a friend. Afterwards I'm in bed ready to go to sleep, and I suddenly feel really weird like I'm finally about to switch to another channel consciousness wise which I've been aiming for, for weeks. But what do I do? Resist with every fibre in my body, because I just wanted to sleep. Wanted to kick myself so hard the next day. I've made a deal with myself to jump into the abyss the next time no matter what the circumstance.

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Reblogged from Relaxed Focus: Conspiracy theories don't require "belief." People, groups, organizations and governments conspire all the time. It's their natural state. Which is why criminal law throughout the world recognizes the crime of conspiracy.

Just read one link, read about Operation Northwoods. And once you read that the Joint Chiefs of Staff proposed false flag terrorist attacks on American targets to provoke & justify conflict with Cuba, then you realize the government is capable of anything. Then consider it was proposed in 1962 and wasn't made public until 1997. Thirty five years. Then extrapolate all the things going on now that you won't find out for years, if ever.

Friday, April 20, 2012

"You've got to realize," Hagbard went on, "that life is a coming apart and death is a coming together. Does that help?"

("I never know whether Hagbard is talking profundity or asininity," George said dreamily, toking away.)
"Reincarnation works backward in time," Hagbard went on, as the narcs opened drawers and peered under chairs.

"You always get reborn into an earlier historical period. Mussolini is a witch in the 14th century now, and catching hell from the Inquisitors for his bum karma in this age. People who 'remember' the past are all deluded. The only ones who really remember past incarnations remember the future, and they become science-fiction writers."
More (there was always more, with Hagbard), he had been impressed, on reading Weishaupt's Uber
Strip Schnipp-Schnapp, Weltspielen and Funfwissenschaft, by the passage on the Order of Assassins,
which read:

Surrounded by Moslem maniacs on one side and Christian maniacs on the other, the wise Lord Hassan preserved his people and his cult by bringing the art of assassination to esthetic perfection. With just a few daggers strategically placed in exactly the right throats, he found Wisdom's alternative to war, and preserved the peoples by killing their leaders. Truly, his was a most exemplary life of grandmotherly kindness.

In a second, he remembered: the Mu-Mon-Kan or "Gateless Gate" of Rinzai Zen contained a story about a monk who kept asking a Zen Master, "What is the Buddha?" Each time he asked, he got hit upside the head with the Master's staff. Finally discouraged, he left and sought enlightenment with another Master, who asked him why he had left the previous teacher. When the poor gawk explained, the second Master gave him the ontological hotfoot: "Go back to your previous Master at once," he cried, "and apologize for not showing enough appreciation of his grandmotherly kindness!"

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Is the thought of a unicorn a real thought? In a sense, that is the basic question of philosophy—

I thought you were going to tell me a story, not launch into some dreary German metaphysics. I had
enough of that at the University.

The thought of a unicorn is a real thought, then, to be brief. So is the thought of the Redeemer on the Cross, the Cow who Jumped Over the Moon, the lost continent of Mu, the Gross National Product, the Square Root of Minus One, and anything else capable of mobilizing emotional energy. And so, in a sense, Eris and the other Olympians were, and are, real. At the same time, in another sense, there is only one True God and your redeemer in His only begotten son; and the lloigor, like Tsathoggua, are real enough to reach out and draw you into their world, which is on the other side of Nightmare. But I promised to keep the philosophy to a minimum.

You recall the story of the Golden Apple, in the exoteric and expurgated version at least? The true version is the same, up to a point. Zeus, a terrible old bore by the way, did throw a bash on Olympus, and he did slight Our Lady by not inviting Her. She did make an apple, but it was Acapulco Gold, not metallic gold. She wrote Kallisti, on it, to the prettiest one, and rolled it into the banquet hall. Everybody— not just the goddesses; that's a male chauvinist myth— started fighting over who had the right to smoke it. Paris was never called in to pass judgment; that's all some poet's fancy. The Trojan War was just another imperialistic rumble and had no connection with these events at all.

What really happened was that everybody was squabbling over the apple and working up a sweat and pushing one another around and pretty soon their vibrations— Gods have very high vibration, exactly at the speed of light, in fact— heated up the apple enough to unleash some heavy fumes. In a word, the Olympians all got stoned.

And they saw a Vision, or a series of Visions.

In the first Vision, they saw Yahweh, a neighboring god with a world of his own which overlapped theirs in some places. He was clearing the set to change its valence and start a new show. His method struck them as rather barbarous. He was, in fact, drowning everybody— except one family that he allowed to escape in an Ark.

"This is Chaos," said Hermes. "That Yahweh is a mean mother', even for a god."

And they looked at the Vision more closely, and because they could see into the future and were all (like every intelligent entity) rabid Laurel and Hardy fans and because they were zonked on the weed, they saw that Yahweh bore the face of Oliver Hardy. All around him, below the mountain on which he lived (his world was fiat), the waters rose and rose. They saw drowning men, drowning women, innocent babes sinking beneath the waves. They were ready to vomit. And then Another came and stood beside Yahweh, looking at the panorama of horrors below, and he was Yahweh's Adversary, and, stoned as they were, he looked like Stanley Laurel to them. And then Yahweh spoke, in the eternal words of Oliver Hardy: "Now look what you made me do," he said.

And that was the first Vision.

They looked again, and they saw Lee Harvey Oswald perched in the window of the Texas School Book Depository; and he, again, wore the face of Stanley Laurel. And, because this world had been created by a great god named Earl Warren, Oswald fired the only shots that day, and John Fitzgerald Kennedy was, as the Salvation Army charmingly expresses it, "promoted to glory."

"This is Confusion," said Athena with her owl-eyes flashing, for she was more familiar with the world created by the god Mark Lane.

Then they saw a hallway, and Oswald-Laurel was led out between two policemen. Suddenly Jack Ruby, with the face of Oliver Hardy, stepped forward and fired a pistol right into that frail little body. And then Ruby spoke the eternal words, to the corpse at his feet: "Now look what you made me do," he said.

And that was the second Vision.

Next, they saw a city of 550,000 men, women and children, and in an instant the city vanished; shadows remained where the men were gone, a firestorm raged, burning pimps and infants and an old statue of a happy Buddha and mice and dogs and old men and lovers; and a mushroom cloud arose above it all. This was in a world created by the crudest of all gods, Realpolitik.

"This is Discord," said Apollo, disturbed, laying down his lute.

Harry Truman, a servant of Realpolitik, wearing the face of Oliver Hardy, looked upon his work and saw that it was good. But beside him, Albert Einstein, a servant of that most elusive and gnomic of gods, Truth, burst into tears, the familiar tears of Stanley Laurel facing the consequences of his own karma. For a brief instant, Truman was troubled, but then he remembered the eternal words: "Now look what you made me do," he said.

And that was the third Vision.

Now they saw trains, many trains, all of them running on time, and the trains criss-crossed Europe and ran 24 hours a day, and they all came to a few destinations that were alike. There, the human cargo was stamped, catalogued, processed, executed with gas, tabulated, recorded, stamped again, cremated and disposed.

"This is Bureaucracy," said Dionysus, and he smashed his wine jug in anger; beside him, his lynx glared balefully.

And then they saw the man who had ordered this, Adolf Hitler, wearing still the mask of Oliver Hardy, and he turned to a certain rich man, Baron Rothschild, wearing the mask of Stanley Laurel, and they knew this was the world created by the god Hegel and the angel Thesis was meeting the demon Antithesis. Then Hitler spoke the eternal words: "Now look what you made me do," he said.

And that was the fourth Vision.

They did then look further and, lo, high as they were they saw the founding of a great republic and proclamations hailing new gods named Due Process and Equal Rights for All. And they saw many in high places in the republic form a separate cult and worship Mammon and Power. And the Republic became an Empire, and soon Due Process and Equal Rights for All were not worshipped, and even Mammon and Power were given only lip-service, for the true god of all was now the impotent What Can I Do and his dull brother What We Did Yesterday and his ugly and vicious sister Get Them Before They Get Us.

"This is Aftermath," said Hera, and her bosom shook with tears for the fate of the children of that nation.

And they saw many bombings, many riots, many rooftop snipers, many Molotov cocktails. And they saw the capital city in ruins, and the leader, wearing the face of Stanley Laurel, taken prisoner amid the rubble of his palace. And they saw the chief of the revolutionaries look about at the rubble and the streets full of corpses, and they heard him sigh, and then he addressed the leader, and he spoke the eternal words: "Now look what you made me do," he said.

And that was the fifth Vision.

And now the Olympians were coming down and they looked at each other in uncertainty and dismay.
Zeus himself spoke first.

"Man," he said, "that was Heavy Grass."

"Far fuckin out," Hermes agreed solemnly.

"Tree fuckin mendous," added Dionysus, petting his lynx."

"We were really fuckin into it," Hera summed up, for all.

And they turned their eyes again on the Golden Apple and read the word Our Lady Eris had written upon it, that most multiordinal of all words, Kallisti. And they knew that each god and goddess, and each man and woman, was in the privacy of the heart, the prettiest one, the fairest; the most innocent, the Best. And they repented themselves of not having invited Our Lady Eris to their party, and they summoned her forth and asked her, "Why did you never tell us before that all categories are false and all Good and Evil a delusion of limited perspective?"

And Eris said, "As men and women are actors on a stage of our devising, so are we actors on the
stage devised by the Five Fates. You had to believe in Good and Evil and pass judgments on your
creatures, the men and women below. It was a curse the Fates put upon you! But now you have come
to the Great Doubt and you are free."

The Olympians thereupon lost interest in the god-game and soon were forgotten by humanity. For
She had shown them a great Light, and a great Light destroys shadows; and we are all, gods and
mortals, nothing else but gliding shadows. Do you believe that?

"No," said Fission Chips.

"Very well," the Dealy Lama said somberly. "Begone, back to the world of maya!"

There came unto the High Chapperal one who had studied in the schools of the Purple Sage and of the Hung Mung Tong and of the Illuminati and of the many other schools;

and this one had found no peace yet.

Yea: of the Discordians and the teachers of Mummu and of the Nazarene and of the Buddha he had studied; and he had found no peace yet.

And he spake to the High Chapperal and said: Give me a sign, that I may believe.

And the High Chapperal said unto him: Leave my presence, and seek ye the horizon and the sign shall come unto you, and ye shall seek no more.

And the man turned and sought of the horizon; but the High Chapperal crept up behind him and raised his foot and did deliver a most puissant kick in the man's arse, which smarted much and humiliated the seeker grievously.

He who has eyes, let him read and understand.

—"The Book of Grandmotherly Kindness," The Dishonest Book of Lies, by Mordecai Malignatus, K.N.S.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Even so, the Aztecs grew more frantic toward the end, increasing the number of sacrifices, doubling and tripling the days of the year that called for spilled blood. But nothing saved them: just as Eisenhower's army advanced across Europe to end the ovens of Auschwitz, Cortez and his ships moved toward the great pyramid, the statue of Tlaloc, the confrontation.

"I've got it, I've got it!" Saul said, laughing, "I looked every way but the right way before. He's inside the Pentagon. That's why they build it in that shape, so he couldn't escape. The Aztecs, the Nazis . . . and now us ..."
"Yes," Mavis said grimly. "That's why thirty thousand Americans disappear every year, without trace, and their cases end up in the unsolved files. He has to be fed."

Five hundred thousand dollars this house and grounds had cost, including the cottages, and it was only one of his eight estates. Money. What did it mean when Nyarlathotep appeared and "the wild beasts followed him and licked his hands" as that damned stupid-smart Lovecraft wrote? What did it matter when "the blind idiot God Chaos blew earth's dust away"?

For once, curiosity surpassed cupidity in Drake; he asked, "Are you really keeping him in the Pentagon?"
"Would you like to meet him, face to face?" Winifred asked with a faint hint of a sneer in his voice.
"No thank you," Drake said coolly. "I've been reading Herman Rauschning. I remember Hitler's words about the Superman: 'He is alive, among us. I have met him. He is intrepid and terrible. I was afraid of him.' That's enough for my curiosity."
"Hitler," Winifred replied, not hiding the sneer now. "Saw him in his more human form. He's ... progressed ... since then."
Tonight, Drake thought, as the thunder rose to a maddening crescendo, I will see him, or one of them. Surely, I could have picked a more agreeable form of suicide? The question was pointless; Jung had been right all along, with his Law of Opposites. Even Freud knew it: every sadist becomes a masochist at last.

The next day he (Drake) was shot, several times, in the head and shoulders, dying of natural causes as a result.
One hundred thousand marched to the Pentagon and some of them tried to expel the Demon (the Illuminati foiled that at the last minute, forbidding them to form a circle).

The Illuminatus! Trilogy is a series of three novels written by Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson.

"Can the future affect the present? Can the present affect the past? Well, according to Bell's Theorem it can. According to Bell's Theorem everything in the universe affects everything else everywhichway in spacetime..." - Robert Anton Wilson

Kate Bush's song "Cloudbusting" describes Wilhelm Reich's arrest and incarceration through the eyes of Reich's son, Peter, who wrote his father's story in A Book of Dreams, published in 1973. The video for the song was directed by Julian Doyle, conceived by Terry Gilliam and Bush, and has Donald Sutherland as Reich, and Kate Bush as Peter.

I was fixing broken youtube links but it's way too much work, youtube will just keep removing videos with whatever excuse, so please search the video title on youtube if a video is no longer working on the blog. Thank you.

Every action is an experiment, and every experiment yields its fruit in knowledge.

"Very few humans consider themselves sinners nowadays," said George. "But everyone is afraid of
death."
"All
human beings consider themselves sinners. It's just about the deepest,
oldest, and most universal human hangup there is. In fact, it's almost
impossible to speak of it in terms that don't confirm it. To say that
human beings have a universal hangup, as I just did, is to restate the
belief that all men are sinners in different languages. In that sense,
the Book of Genesis— which was written by early Semitic opponents of the
Illuminati— is quite right. To arrive at a cultural turning point where
you decide that all human conduct can be classified in one of two
categories, good and evil, is what creates all sin— plus anxiety,
hatred, guilt, depression, all the peculiarly human emotions. And, of
course, such a classification is the very antithesis of creativity. To
the creative mind there is no right or wrong. Every action is an
experiment, and every experiment yields its fruit in knowledge. To the
moralist,
every action can be judged as right or wrong— and, mind you, in
advance— without knowing what its consequences are going to be—
depending upon the mental disposition of the
actor. Thus the men who burned Giordano Bruno at the stake knew they were doing good, even
though the consequence of their actions was to deprive the world of a great scientist."
"If you can never be sure whether what you are doing is good or bad," said George, "aren't you liable
to be pretty Hamlet-like?" He was feeling much better now, much less afraid, even though the enemy
was still presumably out there trying to kill him. Maybe he was getting darshan from Hagbard.
"What's
so bad about being Hamlet-like?" said Hagbard. "Anyway, the answer is
no, because you only become hesitant when you believe there is such a
thing as good and evil, and that your action may be one or the other,
and you're not sure which. That was the whole point about Hamlet, if you
remember the play. It was his conscience that made him indecisive."

"So he should have murdered a whole lot of people in the first act?"
Hagbard
laughed. "Not necessarily. He might have decisively killed his uncle at
the earliest opportunity, thus saving the lives of everyone else. Or he
might have said, 'Hey, am I really obligated to avenge my father's
death?' and done nothing. He was due to succeed to the throne anyway. If
he had just bided his time everyone would have been a lot better off,
there would have been no deaths, and the Norwegians would not have
conquered the Danes, as they did in the last scene of the last act.
Though being Norwegian myself I would hardly begrudge Fortinbras his
triumph."

The Hour of the Evil Eye— the catastrophe that destroyed High Atlantis.

"How many of these Atlantean civilizations were there?" asked George.
"Basically, two. One leading up to the Hour, and one afterward. Before the Hour, there was a civilization of about a million human beings on this continent. Technically, they were further advanced than the human race is today. They had atomic power, space travel, genetic technology and much else. This civilization was struck a death blow in the Hour of the Evil Eye. Two-thirds of them were killed —almost half the human population of the planet at that time. After the Hour, something made it impossible for them to make a comeback. The cities that came through the first catastrophe relatively undamaged were destroyed in later disasters. The inhabitants of Atlantis were reduced to savagery in a generation. Part of the continent sank under the sea, which was the beginning of the process that ended when all of Atlantis was under water, as it is today."
"Was this the earthquakes and tidal waves that you always read about?" George asked. "No," said Hagbard with a curious closed expression.
"It was manmade. High Atlantis was destroyed in a kind of war. Probably a civil war, since there was no other power on the planet that could have matched them."
"Anyway, if there'd been a victor, they'd still be around now," said George.
"They are," said Mavis. "The victors are still around. Only they're not what you might visualize. Not a conquering nation. And we are the descendants of the defeated."

Friday, April 13, 2012

is
alchemical, of course. The traditional code represents the three kinds
of sex by a cube, a pyramid, and a sphere. The cube is that travesty we
call 'normal sex, in which the two nervous systems never actually merge
at the orgasm, like the two parallel sides of the cube. The pyramid is
the two coming together and joining, the magical-telepathic orgasm. The
sphere is the Tantric ritual, endlessly prolonged, with no orgasm at
all. The alchemists used that code for over two thousand years. The
Rosicrucians among the founding fathers used the pyramid as a symbol of
their kind of sex magic. Aleister Crowley used that symbol the same way,
more recently. The eye on the pyramid is the two minds meeting.
Neurological interlock. The opening of the Eye of Shiva. Ewige
Schlangekraft—the eternal serpent power. The joining of the Rose and
Cross, vagina and penis, into Rose-Cross. The astral leap. Mind escaping
from physiology."

You silly sons-of-bitches!

You silly sons-of-bitches!

You silly sons-of-bitches!

23. Two and Three. Duality and trinity. Every unity is a duality and a trinity.

Dillinger
made contact with the mind of Richard Belz, forty-three-year-old
professor of physics at Queens College, as Belz was being loaded into an
ambulance to be taken to Bellevue Hospital where X rays would reveal
severe skull fractures. Shit, Dillinger thought, why does somebody have
to be half dead before I can reach him? Then he concentrated on his
message: Two universes flowing in opposite directions. Two together form
a third entity which is synergetically more than the sum of its two
parts. Thus two always leads to three. Two and Three. Duality and
trinity. Every unity is a duality and a trinity. A pentagon. Sheer
energy, no matter involved. From the pentagon depend five more
pentagons, like the petals of a flower. A white rose. Five petals and a
center: six. Two times three. The flower interlocks with another flower
just like it, forming a polyhedron made of pentagons. Each such
polyhedron could have common surfaces with other polyhedrons, forming
infinite latticework based on the pentagonal unit. They would be
immortal. Self-sustaining. Not computers. Beyond computers. Gods. All
space for their habitation. Infinitely complex.

"Who did you say was looting this temple?" he asked Hagbard.
"The
Illuminati. The real force behind all communist and fascist movements.
Whether you're aware of it or not, they're also already in control of
the United States government."
"I thought everybody in your crowd was a right-winger—"
"And I told you spacial metaphors are inadequate in discussing politics today," Hagbard interrupted.
"Well,
you sound like a gang of right-wingers. Up until the last minute, all
I've heard from you and your people was that the Illuminati were
commies, or were behind the commies. Now you say they're behind fascism
and behind the current government in Washington, too."

Hagbard laughed. "We came on like right-wing paranoids, at first, to see how you'd react. It was a test."
"And?"
"You
passed. You didn't believe us— that was obvious— but you kept your eyes
and ears open and were willing to listen. If you were a right-winger,
we would have done our pro-communist rap. The idea is to find out if a
new man or woman will listen, really listen, or just shut their minds
at the first really shocking idea."
"I'm listening, but not
uncritically. For instance, if the Illuminati control America already,
what's the purpose of the assassinations?"
"Their grip on
Washington is still pretty precarious. They've been able to socialize
the economy. But if they showed their hand now and went totalitarian all
the way, there would be a revolution. Middle-readers would rise up with
right-wingers, and left-libertarians, and the Illuminati aren't
powerful enough to withstand that kind of massive revolution. But they
can rule by fraud, and by fraud eventually acquire access to the tools
they need to finish the job of killing off the Constitution."
"What sort of tools?"

"More
stringent security measures. Universal electronic surveillance.
No-knock laws. Stop and frisk laws. Government inspection of first-class
mail. Automatic fingerprinting, photographing, blood tests, and
urinalysis of any person arrested before he is charged with a crime. A
law making it unlawful to resist even unlawful arrest. Laws establishing
detention camps for potential subversives.

Gun
control laws. Restrictions on travel. The assassinations, you see,
establish the need for such laws in the public mind. Instead of
realizing that there is a conspiracy, conducted by a handful of men, the
people reason— or are manipulated into reasoning— that the entire
populace must have its freedom restricted in order to protect the
leaders. The people agree that they themselves can't be trusted. Targets
for assassination will be mavericks of left or right who are either not
part of the Illuminati conspiracy or have been marked as unreliable.
The Kennedy brothers and Martin Luther King, for example, were capable
of mobilizing a somewhat libertarian left-right-black-white populist
movement. But the assassinations that have occurred so far are nothing
compared to what will take place. The next wave will be carried out by
the Mafia, who will be paid in Illuminati gold."
"Not Moscow gold," said George with a smile.

"The
puppets in the Kremlin have no idea that they and the puppets in the
White House are working for the same people. The Illuminati control all
sorts of organizations and national governments without any of them
being aware that others are also controlled. Each group thinks it is
competing with the others, while actually each is playing its part in
the Illuminati plan. Even the Morituri— the six-person affinity groups
which splintered from the SDS Weathermen, because the Weathermen seemed
too cautious— are under the control of the Illuminati. They think
they're working to bring down the government, but actually they are
strengthening its hand. The Black Panthers are also infiltrated.
Everything is infiltrated. At present rate, within the next few years
the Illuminati will have the American people under tighter surveillance
than Hitler had the Germans. And the beauty of it is, the majority of
the Americans will have been so frightened by Illuminati-backed
terrorist incidents that they will beg to be controlled as a masochist
begs for the whip."
George shrugged. Hagbard sounded like a
typical paranoid, but there was this submarine and the strange events of
the past few days. "So the Illuminati are conspiring to tyrannize the
world, is that it? Do you trace them back to the First International?"

"No.
They're what happened when the Enlightenment of the eighteenth century
collided with German mysticism. The correct name for the organization is
Ancient Illuminated Seers of Bavaria. According to their own traditions
they were founded or revived in seventeen seventy-six on May first by a
man named Adam Weishaupt. Weishaupt was an unfrocked Jesuit and a
Mason. He taught that religions and national governments had to be
overthrown and the world ruled by an elite of scientifically-minded
materialistic atheists, to be held in trust for the masses of mankind
who would eventually rule themselves when enlightenment became
universal. But this was only Weishaupt's 'Outer Doctrine.' There was
also an 'Inner Doctrine,' which was that power is an end in itself, and
that Weishaupt and his closest followers would make use of the new
knowledge being developed by scientists and engineers to seize control
of the world. Back in seventeen seventy-six, things were run largely by
the Church and the feudal nobility, with the capitalists slowly getting a
bigger and bigger piece of the pie. Weishaupt declared that these
groups were obsolete, and it was time for an elite with a monopoly on
scientific and technological knowledge to seize power. Instead of
eventually producing a democratic society, as the 'Outer Doctrine'
promised, the Ancient Illuminated Seers of Bavaria would saddle mankind
with a dictatorship that would last forever."